


An Intro

by swordPrincess



Series: Labstuck [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Labstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swordPrincess/pseuds/swordPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is John Egbert and today is your thirteen birthday.<br/>-<br/>Your name is Rose Lalonde and all you can bring yourself to feel right now is numb.<br/>-<br/>Your name is Dave Strider and you are tired of all this bullshit.<br/>-<br/>Your name is Jade Harley and today you are feeling a bit lonely.<br/>-<br/>labstuck.tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Intro

**Author's Note:**

> And so it begins.
> 
> Visit the Labstuck tumblr for background info, up-to-date fic, and also to ask questions to the characters if you want to.

==>Be John.

Your name is John Egbert and today is your thirteen birthday. You are not spending time with your dad inside with him baking unwanted cakes this year, though. This year you are attending a funeral.

The funeral is for a lady. A lady that you understand your dad had been quite fond of. The lady also happens to be your friend Rose's mother. Your dad and your friend stand on either side of you.

You look at your dad first. He is a man worn with grief. Spent of tears. It pains you to see him like this, he is usually so strong and together. Although you certainly have your disagreements, you look up to him. Your friend Dave tells you that he isn't really your dad. That he's just another scientist. But you try your best to ignore him on that account. This man is your dad and you love him. And that's really all there is to say on the matter.

Next you look over to your friend. Rose looks solemn, but she has not been crying. Her expression has not changed the entire time as far as you've noticed. She has not looked at you. Her eyes stare in front of her, barely even blinking. It's kind of freaking you out.

You decide to look at your shoes.

This is the first day you have been outside the confines of the large complex building that contains your home, your classroom, and the courtyard you used for a playground as a child for as long as you can remember. Being stuck in that building is the one thing you are most unsatisfied with about your life. You are far more accepting of your circumstances than your friends most of the time, but the constant feeling of being trapped or confined in that place unnerves even you.

You do not feel any more free now, though, even outside the building. The area of the funeral is still within the area of the property - enclosed by rather imposing barbed wire. The numerous scientists and security guards around you are also quite imposing.

You close your eyes and for a moment try to do what you used to do as a child in the courtyard - you try to pretend you are free in the open air. That you aren't surrounded by any confinement. It is a brief moment of imagined freedom.

A small wind picks up.

 

==>Be Rose.

Your name is Rose Lalonde and all you can bring yourself to feel right now is numb. A wind has recently picked up and it whips your hair around your face. Your eyes still do not deign themselves to move from dead center.

The woman about to be lowered into the ground in a casket was your mother. She raised you at least, and you also believe she does have a genetic relation to you. However, due to certain circumstances, you do not believe that she actually gave birth to you.

Not that such things really matter.

Regardless of it, her death is still quite upsetting to you. It's just that you saw this coming. You saw this coming, and you refuse to cry about it.

You are really quite perceptive, despite anyone's efforts to keep you in the dark about matters. You know - you have figured out - that you mom has spent years trying to find how not to die. Trying and failing and falling harder and harder into the drink.

You don't think you saw her for even a moment the last week without a glass of alchohol in her hand. Not a single moment until it finally crashed to the floor. Just like your mom.

The scientists came running and everything has been a blurr since then.

You know your friend John is standing next to you, even though you haven't even sent a glance his way. He tried to talk to you a bit earlier. You can't say for sure what he said, as your brain did not feel like processing the words brought through your eardrums, but you expect it was some sort of condolences.

Your gaze, still straight as ever, reaches far out in front of you to where another of your friends stands.

Your mom's is not the only funeral today.

 

==>Be Dave.

Your name is Dave Strider and you are tired of all this bullshit.

You refuse to look at the casket. You refuse to look at the scientists, even when they attempt to talk to you. Mostly they have given up by now. You refuse to look over to your friends at the other corpse box. You refuse to take off your sunglasses and reveal how red your eyes are right now.

The last one is par for the course, really, except this time the red is maybe more than just your irises. Not that you'd ever admit it. If anyone asks you just tell them that the light stings. It's basically true of the fluorescent glare of inside. You aren't sure about out here, but you are in no mood to find out.

You'd try to make a break for it again, except they've got you covered on all angles, as usual. It must be some sort of crazy that makes you even consider trying again.

Your hand tightens around an old pair of pointy anime shades you used to wear before your aviators. They matched your bro's. You figure you'll throw them on the casket in lieu of flowers. It seems more appropriate to you somehow. The points dig into your palm and you clench your jaw at the pain they produce.

You aren't really paying attention, but you hear some bits and pieces of murmured conversation. Things like "generation" and "not stable". It's like they aren't even attempting to hide the fact that you are their little lab monkeys anymore. Not that there was ever much of a cover-up. Especially not since you and your friends hacked past their internet blocks and found out what real life was like.

You are no one's fools after all. Well, maybe John is. He's still in some weird sort of denial. You try to talk to him about it sometimes, but he just ignores you.

You sigh and look up just as a bird passes overhead. Lucky bird. It can fly easily up and over that barbed wire fence while you are stuck here in the cage.

You briefly wonder about how your other friend is doing right now. The only one not invited outside today.

 

==>Be Jade.

Your name is Jade Harley and today you are feeling a bit lonely. You guess you never realized how much you have taken the company of your friends for granted until you are forced to spend the day without them.

Your friends are currently attending funerals. You were not invited. Nor were you invited to any kind of funeral when your grandfather died a few years ago. The scientists simply took his body away and left you to mourn in your own way by yourself.

However, you suspect, based on overheard talk of stabilty and natural causes versus cell degredation, that the funerals being held for Rose and Dave's guardians are not because the scientists of the facility suddenly care, but rather that they do not care.

They do not care about failed projects.

You find it amazing sometimes what certain adults will say around children. They underestimate your ability to understand.

You are so bored.

There are only so many things to do with no one to talk to, and you have even be relieved of any school work today. Your teacher didn't find any sense in it when all your classmates are out.

You give your dog a pat on the head. You promise him to take him out into the courtyard again later. It's not good for him to say cooped up for so long. Nor you.

For now you have something to do, though.

You leave your room for the hallway. There is a single guard outside. You smile sweetly at him, and he smiles back. The guards trust you. You have never once given them a reason not to. You'd like to leave this place just as much as your friends. Just as much as Dave, even. But unlike Dave you know, you understand, that it's not only fruitless to attempt escape, it is also dangerous.

You proceed through the hallways of your section of the lab without any problem. They are very empty today. Most of the scientists and guards are out with your friends. Afterall, you are locked in the building and have never attempted escape. There is little reason to guard you so thoroughly when you are alone.

You finally come to a heavily locked door and wait. The door is marked with the greek letter alpha and nothing else.

You don't even glance at the security camera. Doing so would attract its suspicious eye. You look down and examine your nails, picking little bits of things out of them to while away the time.

After some minutes, a note is slipped through the crack. You retrieve it and head back to your room quickly.

The note is from your...penpal of sorts. You received the first letter some time ago. It was full of silliness written in emerald green pen. But also you discovered a code. Nothing important, just a time and date. You arrived back at the door at that time and delivered a message of your own. You've been passing notes ever since.

The first few notes after your initial contact spooked you somewhat. They reminded you of your grandfather so much you could almost believe you were speaking to a ghost. But it became clear over time that you were speaking to a boy.

You open up today's note as soon as you are safely behind the closed door. This one does not contain a time and date for your next contact. It contains something more interesting instead.

A screenname.

You quickly log in on your computer and open a new message window.

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT] \--

You smile. You will have someone to talk to today afterall.

**An Intro: End**


End file.
